It May Have Been
by Aesclepius
Summary: CHAPTER 3 added! Should the Prophecies determined in the skies so long ago crumble, what will become of the Universe? There is only one who can save it, and only one who can destroy it. A choice can make your life - or break it.
1. Lonely

It May Have Been....  
  
by  
  
Fizzle!  
  
-- AUTHOR'S NOTE : I really enjoyed David Eddings books, so I thought I'd write a fanfic for them. What a pleasure to know that there are other David Eddings fans out there! In one of the books, ( I think t'was the 'Seeress Of Kell' ) the dry voice in Garion's mind told him that if he hadn't gone his adventures and stuff, he would have married Zubrette. So I was thinking...what would have happened if he hadn't gone a-adventuring in the Belgariad? That's what this fic will focus on...I hope you like it!  
  
Due to some review's I received , I have rewritten this story using an editor. YAY!  
  
DISCLAIMER : I own none of these characters, or anything mentioned in this story. The only thing I do own is the story itself. Nothing in it.  
  
NOW "IT MAY HAVE BEEN..." STARTS --  
  
Garion wandered around aimlessly, kicking little pebbles along. Life at Faldor's Farm had taught him to expect good food, to feel safe and to live a healthy, hearty life. Of course, anybody who lived with Aunt Pol would have been whipped down to the very model of obedience, not to say that Aunt Pol actually used a whip, because she didn't. Just one look, one glare would stifle anybody. Garion remembered what she had done to Zubrette one day, when Zubrette had dared to run away after Doroon had fallen out of a tree.  
  
Garion frowned. Actually, he had never known what Aunt Pol had sone to Zubrette. He hadn't been allowed to watch. But it had been something awful, to make Zubrette cry as she did.  
  
Zubrette. A dreamy smile lit his face. Zubrette, to Garion, meant thick, blonde hair...full, rose-red lips...wide eyes...and lots of candy. Zubrette was crazy over sweets.  
  
"Sweets for the sweet," said Garion out loud. A quick scowl crossed his face when he thought of Doroon and Rundorig. They were his best friends, of course, except when it came to Zubrette!  
  
But Garion dismissed that thought - surely Zubrette liked him best?  
  
"Aunt Pol!? I'm home! " he shouted, going round the back and banging on the kitchen door. That was Aunt Pol's territory...the kitchen. Garion fumbled with door, and he walked in. "Aunt Pol?" The kitchen was empty. Which was, as Garion very well knew, unusual.  
  
Aunt Pol bounded into the kitchen, all spirit and vim. "What have you been up to, Garion?" she shot at him, hurrying towards the stove.  
  
"Nothing! Why do you always assume I've been up to something?! I'm not a little boy anymore, Aunt Pol!" Garion began in an injured tone. This, unfortunately, was fairly common, the continuous sparring between Aunt Pol and Garion. Garion held it in his view that Aunt Pol still treated him like a child when he wasn't. He was 15 years old*! Aunt Pol's view was that Garion would be told whatever he should know, and all in good time.  
  
"Because," she explained patiently. "You always are."  
  
Garion scowled, but at that moment, Mister Wolf walked in. "Mister Wolf! I didn't know you were back! It's been 5 years!" cried Garion happily, but the smile left his face as he realized that once again, Aunt Pol hadn't told him something. "Aunt Pol! Why didn't you tell me?"  
  
Aunt Pol wiped her hands on apron and rolled her eyes. "Old Wolf never told me! You know, Garion, you've got too much curiosity! Much more than the average Sendarian boy!"  
  
"Pol, what have you been doing to him?" chuckled Mister Wolf.  
  
"Old Wolf, I suggest you do what you do best, which is drinking and parading about, and I do what I know how to do better than you, if not best!" replied Aunt Pol tartly.  
  
"Pol, Pol...you're too much!" Mister Wolf was laughing, with tears spilling out of his eyes. "Do you remember that day, when I asked you to look after the lad-"  
  
"That 'lad' is right here," warned Aunt Pol. "Oh, Wolf, you are so lucky I'm in a good mood..."  
  
"I think I'm going to have to chance that, Pol," he said, beginning to look solemn. "I need to talk to you."  
  
Aunt Pol looked like she understood, so she shooed Garion away. "Garion, dear, why don't you go see what Zubrette is up to, now?"  
  
Garion glared at her mutinously, but with Aunt Pol, disobeying was simply not on the agenda, so he did so. He deliberately walked to the door as slowly as possible. Once he was outside, he decided to just cut away to Zubrette's as fast as he could.  
  
Faldor's Farm was a small neighborhood, but a peaceful and happy one, as it was staunchly Sendarian. Sendaria values were noble in a simple way, and unfairly sober. It wasn't common for a Sendarian to get drunk. Zubrette lived in the house on the corner of the one street which made up Faldor's Farm. It was bright yellow, by some freak of nature, and pretty little shrubs surrounded it.  
  
Garion knocked for her, and she answered the door, looking elusive and elegant in the door's frame. Her thick, sunshine hair had been tied into a loose braid, and a smile graced her face. "Garion! What are you doing here?" she asked.  
  
"Aunt Pol shoved me outta the house again. Thought I'd come see you again. Is that alright?" He felt rather wretched to be asking such a thing.  
  
Zubrette flipped her braid coyly. "Of course...would you like to go round back? To the garden?"  
  
"Whatever suits you suits me!" Garion grinned at her. She dragged him to the dimly lit garden. It was past sunset, and it was the time when the world could only be described as blue, so Garion mentally assumed it must be dusk.(As a matter of fact, it was dusk!)  
  
"Anything new?" Zubrette asked in a casual tone.  
  
"I wish Aunt Pol didn't always treat me like a little kid!" grumbled Garion.  
  
"Aw, don't worry..." Zubrette inched closer to Garion. "You know something? I saw Doroon yesterday..."  
  
Garion's mental senses screamed red alert. "What did he want?" asked Garion cautiously. She smiled a smug smile. Her voice dropped to a whisper.  
  
"He wanted to know," She paused to pat her hair. "If I would marry him."  
  
Garion groaned. This was the last straw. If things could get worse...they would, they DID! But he was still curious as to when exactly Zubrette's wedding date was set. "What did you say?"  
  
Zubrette flirtatiously twirled a strand of her hair. "Well...it would be good for a girl to get settled so soon..." Garion started to slump over. That skinny little -! Garion felt his wrath at Doroon rising. "But I said no..."  
  
Silence. "What? You refused him? W-why?" Garion stammered.  
  
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~~~~~The next chapter will along soon...~~~~~~~~~  
  
*I wasn't sure if Garion's age was 14 or 15!!!!!!! 


	2. Danger

Disclaimer: See chapter 1. All there.  
  
Author's Note: Nothing much. Lol...I must say though that I have to rewrite the decision to travel by Belgarath and Polgara again, coz I can't use the one in the story...Nope. And anyway, since this story goes differently, I suppose this must be too. Lol, OK, I'm babbling. Thanks to all those who reviewed!  
  
It May Have Been | Chapter 2 | Danger  
  
"I DON'T KNOW!" The words burst out from the Old Wolf's mouth, much harsher than he'd wanted it to be. Pol glared at him, and the look seemed to chip away at some of his Pol-resistance. "Look, Pol, what can I do about it? We've got the boy on our hands, and the last thing I need is to have every Grolim and Murgo after me!"  
  
Pol sat down on the kitchen stool to consider what she had just been told. "We should have seen this coming, father," she sighed. "After all, those strange Murgo's had been pottering around here. Do you think they knew who...who...Garion really is?" It wasn't often Pol sounded so unsure of anything, and Mister Wolf silently chuckled to himself. Good for Pol to eat humble-pie now and then.  
  
"Well, I'm sure they had their suspicions, but no, I don't think they knew for sure," he replied solemnly. "I know who the bloody thief is, but...it's too risky. I can't even think his name, or else he'll be alerted at once. You KNOW this, Pol!" Aunt Pol stood up slowly and turned around to face him.  
  
"Well, then, what do you propose we do?"  
  
Mister Wolf frowned. There were a lot of things to be done, but too little time and too little resources to do them in and with. Also, there was the boy to consider. One false move, and boom! A prophecy would go waste. Which reminded him....  
  
"The Seers and Seeress' at Kell are in uproar. They say that one of the prophecies may go astray..." He glanced at Pol. "That's very..." He paused, for effect. "Strange. No prophecy has ever been wrong, Pol. Not one. Never!"  
  
Pol considered. "Yes...that is strange. Did they say which prophecy, father?"  
  
He shook his head. "No. That's what I hate about it all - too much guesswork!"  
  
"Yes, well, no one ever expected you to have the brains to guess what, father!" Pol snubbed lightly. Mister Wolf flinched.  
  
"If only Beldin were here..."  
  
"Enough about that. We must do something! But...no one except the Royal Line of Riva is allowed to touch the stolen item, father! How did the thief manage it?"  
  
"I dunno. Nice cupcakes, these are!" Mister Wolf munched peacefully on a cupcake.  
  
"FATHER!"  
  
"Oh, alright," He hastily finished the cake. "Well, I'm not too sure about that myself. Pol, we have to leave soon. Very soon. As soon as we can! He's left a hazy sort of trail, but with that Drasnian mole rat's help, and Barak's, I'm sure we can wangle something out."  
  
Pol paled. "But...what about the boy?"  
  
He shrugged. "Bring him along. You know the meetings bound to be sooner or later..."  
  
"But- but, what if he doesn't come?"  
  
"WHAT? Why on Alorns wouldn't he?"  
  
"That imp girl...Zubrette! She's had her eyes on him ever since she could make them, and he fell for it, like the fool he is." Pol spoke bitterly, and Mister Wolf suspected she was holding on to something more than that. However, he let it pass. Just this once.  
  
"She's just a girl, Pol! How hard can it be?"  
  
"A lot harder than you think, Old Wolf. This is Sendaria. The perfect age for settlement is 15, and Zubrette is exactly that. Sendarian girls don't think twice about it. Suppose...Garion should propose? Then what? No, Old Wolf. Right now, Zubrette is the biggest threat. Bigger even than that moronic God."  
  
He frowned. "That...could be hard..."  
  
Aunt Pol nodded vigorously. "Very hard."  
  
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Author's note: Yay! I'm glad this story got a few reviews ^^. Thanks a lot for reviewing u guys! I know Chapter 2 wasn't so interesting, coz it was basically a rewrite of what happened in the book, but things can't proceed without that happening, right? For those of you who are looking for more Garion/Zubrette stuff...waaatch out for the next chapter!  
  
Yes, Ce'Nedra is kinda stuck-up, but I guess she's OK in The Mallorean. 


	3. Stunned

Authors Note: Ok, Chapter 3.I'd like to thank Zelda for reviewing.xP You'll be happy to know that now I use an editor. Ok, I'd better get on with the story! By the way, I made a grammatical error in Chapter 2 -  
  
He shrugged. "The meetings bound to be sooner or later."  
  
That should have actually been meeting's with an apostrophe. FORGIVE ME!  
  
It May have Been | Chapter 3 | Proposal  
  
Garion gaped at Zubrette, feeling the hairs on his neck rising. His cheeks felt hot, and he could have sworn they were turning the deepest shade of red they possibly could. He foolishly rubbed his cheeks, all the while knowing that it was of no use.  
  
Zubrette smiled coyly at him. "What's the matter?" she asked with an overly dramatic, concerned tinge on her tone. Garion coughed, and smiled at her sheepishly.  
  
"Nothing.nothing," he spluttered. He was enjoying this all, of course, but he did wish it wasn't so awkward. He idly wondered how Zubrette could be so calm, so cruel even, under the present circumstances. After all, she had all but asked outright for a proposal.  
  
Zubrette shifted impatiently. "Well?" she asked rather impatiently. "Are you going to propose, or are you not?"  
  
Garion gasped. He had made a mistake somewhere. He should have seen that coming. He felt Zubrette's expectant gaze upon him, and he melted away inside. His throat constricted, and he could barely get the words out.  
  
Garion swallowed. He found it helped, especially when you've been asked for a proposal by the girl you really love, who also happens to be the one person you don't want to look stupid in front of. "Will.you.um." he started, hesitantly, shyly.  
  
Zubrette rolled her eyes. "No, Garion, I don't want to um you!" She fiddled with her braids, looking half amused and half angry at the same time. When Garion repeatedly opened and closed his mouth at her for five whole minutes, she snapped at him. "Garion! Would you prefer it that I propose to you and break every ethological law there ever was about engagement, or would you like to finish your.um.sentence?"  
  
Garion stared piteously at Zubrette. Her eyes met his, and suddenly they both realized their foolish predicament. They burst out laughing. Zubrette giggled, while Garion let out hearty laughs, and both the sounds mingled together in the dimly lit garden.  
  
Garion cleared his throat, and slowly began. "Zubrette, will you please, please marry me?" As soon as the words left his mouth, he reckoned he shouldn't have had the 'please' in there. Zubrette glared at him, and he began to feel a bit conscious. "Did I do it right?" he asked, meekly, for something in Zubrette's eyes quenched him considerably. He wondered what Aunt Pol would say when she heard the news. Perhaps, for once she would see that Garion could and what is more, would, be independent.  
  
Zubrette stood up. "It's getting late. You'd better go."  
  
Garion stayed seated. "But - but."  
  
Zubrette spun round and faced Garion with that steely look in her eyes again. "No. I decline. You'd better go home."  
  
Garion was more than just a little surprised, and once the first shock was over, his feelings began to flow again. He was angry. Why did Zubrette go through all that bother of getting him to propose if she was just going to reject him, anyway? He thought sulkily, as he rose to his feet.  
  
He dejectedly trudged towards the gate, carefully avoiding Zubrette's eyes. His hand reached for the gate.  
  
"Oh, Garion?" He willed himself not to turn back and look at Zubrette. He had too much pride for that. What did Zubrette think of him, anyway? That he was just a rag doll, to be toyed with? He would show her.  
  
"Have a better proposal tomorrow, won't you? Every girl dreams of having a touching engagement.and you know, it'd be great if you could throw in a ring, too. Make my engagement one to remember." Her voice trailed off.  
  
Garion spun round, just in time to see her wave goodbye, and grin at him. Zubrette would always be Zubrette. 


End file.
